


Training Day

by PorntiusPilate



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Age Difference, Cunnilingus, F/M, Gentle Sex, I Mean Come On Guys It's Porn, I Never Know What To Tag This Stuff As, Just Read It Cuz You Wanna Read Porn, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-15
Updated: 2020-02-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22728625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PorntiusPilate/pseuds/PorntiusPilate
Summary: Training Day, Or: How To Go From A Training Montage To Fucking Your Professor's Dad
Relationships: Jeralt Reus Eisner/Leonie Pinelli
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Training Day

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!
> 
> So I didn't plan to write this today. I planned to clean my house. But I found this comic about Leonie wanting to bang Jeralt and Byleth being SUPER AGAINST that idea and so obviously I had to look for a good fic of the two of them and like... There really isn't any? That's confusing. Like come on, Internet, she clearly wants to bang him. 
> 
> so anyways long story short I used my whole Valentines day to write this and now there's at least one fic of these two for all you other fuckin' freaks like me out there. Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, and leave a comment. I will die without validation. THENKS. <3

Training Day

There were only a few days left until the Battle of the Eagle and Lion reenactment and, even though Leonie Pinelli was a member of the Golden Deer House, she was just as excited as the rest of the students of the Garreg Mach officer's academy to show what she could do. As the day drew to a close, her chores and duties for the day long since finished, the young redhead decided to finish the day the same way she always did – with a bout of vigorous training.

She was dressed in the usual training gear of Garreg Mach – a set of well-worn leather armor over her simple uniform and a weighted training weapon in hand. Confident in her skills with a bow, she had chosen today to take up a training sword and practice her footwork in the training yard. Stepping in and out of reach of a training dummy, she dodged a series of imagined strikes, always making sure her balance was up to snuff before striking the dummy before her. It wasn't hard work, but it was enough to cause her to break the beginnings of a sweat.

“I see you've taken note of what I taught you all those years ago,” a familiar voice called from the entrance to the training arena. The hair on the back of Leonie's neck stood on edge as she immediately recognized the voice and turned to face him. Jeralt stood in the entryway, easy smile on his strong face, all hard angles and strong features, with hair just barely starting to threaten to gray. He was an undoubtedly handsome man.

“Of course I have! You were one of the greatest fighters in your day, how could I not?” Leonie replied, the barest hint of a flush coming to her cheeks. She respected Jeralt with everything in her mind, but more than that, she found herself utterly infatuated with the older man. “I mean even now, you're probably the strongest fighter in the entire castle!”

Jeralt let out a half-laugh, half-sigh, shaking his head and walking over to the rack of training weapons, grabbing one in his right hand and swinging it a few times. “I'm not so sure about that. I think age is finally starting to catch up to me,” he said, still facing away from her. After a few more test swings, he nodded, grabbing a few pieces of protective leather and slipping them on. “Care to spar a little bit, Leonie?”

Leonie immediately felt her mouth dry, heart beating hard in her chest. Her lips refused to move fast enough to release all the words that caught in her throat. “I-, You-, With-, Yes! Of course! I-I'd be honored!” She hurried to take up proper fighting stance, her hands absolutely quivering with a mixture of dread, excitement, and utter terror at embarrassing herself in front of her mentor.

Jeralt let out another soft chuckle, raising his sword out to tap against her own, a mutual signal that the other combatant was ready. With a gulp and a moment's hesitation, Leonie tapped the tip of her wooden blade against his, and both combatants took a half-step back. The two of them began a slow strafe, circling each other and each watching for the first sign of movement. Jeralt, as ever, was patient, waiting for Leonie to make the first move.

Leonie, on the other hand, was an absolute mess. Her pulse was slamming in her ears, her mind focused on anything other than the sparring match at hand. There was absolutely no way she could beat him, she thought, and any attempt would just show him how much he had wasted his time with her. Her eyes were wide, nervous, afraid... but only for a moment. Her eyes met Jeralt's, and in them she saw only patient understanding. Her worries faded in an instant. Taking a quick gulp to steady her nerves, she jumped forward, lunging towards Jeralt's chest with a thrust.

With a flick of his wrist, the blade of his wooden sword slapped against hers, sending it off balance and the young woman with it, or so he thought. The thrust had been a feint, and when Jeralt slapped it aside, Leonie twisted with the strike and launched a spinning back kick towards the older man's chest. Taken by surprise, instinct kicked in and allowed him to narrowly sidestep the kick. Jeralt smiled in approval, nodding once to the young apprentice. She seemed to visibly swell with pride before returning to her stance, ready for the next line of attack. But how would she do it? A feint was unlikely to work again, Jeralt would be expecting something like it. Perhaps she could try to overwhelm him with a flurry of weaker strikes, get him off balance, and swing for his hand and disarm hi-

Too late! With Leonie busy plotting her next offensive, Jeralt instead took initiative, stepping forward and striking at her left shoulder with a forehand blow. She managed to step into the strike and block it with her sword, but the swing was powerful enough to stagger her back a half-step, both hands bracing her weapon. With his free hand, Jeralt grasped her by the left wrist and all but flung her aside, catching her across the back of her shoulder with the flat of his heavy training sword. The blow stung like fire, skin and muscle straining in pain as she winced and spun away, catching her footing and managing to stay upright.

Leonie was not terribly dexterous, and instead relied on her quick wit and strong frame to win a straight fight – when matched against a stronger, faster, more experienced fighter, she was at an incredible disadvantage, even with the rather profound difference in age. Rolling her wounded shoulder, she turned to face him again, this time keeping her mind under control. Too much planning just meant she was easier to surprise. This time, she would do something different.

With a leap forward, Leonie sent a downward strike towards Jeralt's sword arm, but the older man moved in time, parrying the strike aside. The moment their blades collided, she pulled back before he could bind her blade, and struck with another thrust, but it was again batted aside. She managed to recover again and step forward, but Jeralt did the same, suddenly cutting the distance between the two of them too short for either to use their weapons. Jeralt's hand came up and grasped her wrist, but Leonie dropped her sword and grabbed Jeralt by the collar of his shirt. With some impressive footwork, she was able to hook her leg behind his ankle and, pushing with all her might off her back foot, managed to force him into a backstep that sent them both sprawling hard to the ground.

Jeralt let out a grunt as his back collided with the dirt behind him, stars shooting across his vision, but he recovered quickly, being no stranger to landing flat on his back in combat. With a smile, he looked at the woman who had sent him sprawling, giving words of encouragement. “Not bad, Leonie. You doing alri-?!” Suddenly, it became difficult to speak, as Leonie's lips were pressed very snugly against his own.

For someone so willing to work hard and push herself, Leonie's lips were surprisingly soft against Jeralt's, her eyes clamped closed as she focused only on feeling his rough lips against her own. She let out a soft, involuntary whimper, both hands now curled into fists, his shirt balled into her hands. Taken by surprise, Jeralt hesitated only a moment before grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her away from him.

“Leonie, what's gotten into y-” he began, but she cut him off again.

“Jeralt,” she managed, what seemed to be desperation in her eyes. “please.”

He hesitated again, unsure of what had just happened, or what was even going on. “Leonie, you don't really want this,” he muttered, but she shook her head, setting her jaw with fierce determination.  
“Jeralt, listen to me,” she said, her voice threatening to break at any moment, a flood of emotion swirling in her chest. “I do want this. I want this more than anything.”

His heart was breaking, watching his young, fiery woman baring her heart to him. He was far, far too old for her. He had known she was obsessed with him from when they had first met and she had all but forced him to take her on as apprentice, but he didn't have any idea of how bad it had truly gotten until just now. “No, you don't. You're still young, Leonie. You have your whole life to-” he began, but she cut him off again.

She scoffed, fire burning in her eyes again. The confusing glut of emotion settled, becoming a fierce determination instead. “And how long will that be?” She set her jaw, looking into his deep, soulful eyes. “We've started a war with the Western church. Either one of us could take a stray arrow and die, at any time.” The fire in her eyes faded, settling to a smolder. “I'm not afraid to die. But if I have to die, I don't want to die with any regrets.” Jeralt opened his mouth to say something, but she released his shirt with one hand to press a finger against his lips. “Please, Jeralt. Let me say this.” He paused a moment, but remained quiet, allowing her to continue.

“If... If I were to die tomorrow, Jeralt, I'd only have one regret,” She released his collar, eyes darting away from his, as if suddenly overcome with nervous energy. Jeralt, for his part, remained silent. “I'd regret never telling you how I felt about you. That... That I loved you.”

Jeralt showed her a soft, sad smile, placing consoling hands on her shoulders. She tensed under his touch, but didn't shy away. “Leonie, you're still a child. You could be my daughter, for the goddess' sake.” Unsurprisingly, that was the wrong thing to say. She shook her head, pushing his hands off her arms.

“You already have a daughter! And I already have a father. I'm not a child anymore, Jeralt. I'm 19, I'm a soldier, and I've killed people in battle.” She bit her lower lip, frustration tensing her shoulders. “I don't want to be your daughter, Jeralt. I want to be something you can't get from anyone else. Jeralt, more than anything, I... I want to be your lover.”

Jeralt blinked, heart stilling in his chest. He wasn't lying when he said she could be his daughter – He was much, much older than she was. But... He was wrong to call her a child. She was a powerful, levelheaded soldier, an adult in the eyes of the church, willing to give her life to defend it. And in her own, tomboyish way, she was beautiful. Perhaps, in trying to push her away, to protect her from himself, he was insulting her. “...Is that really what you want?” He asked her after a long silence.

“Yes,” was all she replied.

Jeralt sighed, closing his eyes. Surely this was a mistake. “... If you're sure, then follow me.”

*~*~*

“Jeralt,” Leonie cooed, sitting astride his hips, her uniform discarded beside the bed. His hands, rough and calloused from decades of being a master swordsman, caressed and slid along the sides of her torso, sending shivers down her spine as the tips of his fingers ran over the straps of her brassier and over her ribs. Her own fingers, calloused from years of archery and hunting, traced each detail of the scars crossing the bare chest of the man beneath her. He's seen so much, she thought, her fingers tracing the lines of his powerful abdomen, down to his hips, where her own sat pressed against him.

“Leonie,” he replied, taking one of her breasts in his hand. It filled his palm completely, and she sucked an appreciative breath through her teeth as he gave her a squeeze. He stirred beneath her at the sound, and she bent over him again, catching his lips in another kiss. He allowed himself a quiet groan as she nipped his lower lip, one of his hands settling on her upper back as the other traveled lower, cupping her firm backside in his broad hand.

She let out a quiet moan at his touch, her hips rolling into his hand as she kissed him a little harder, her tongue flicking out to taste the barest bit of blood she had drawn from her bite. Lips still twined in his, she reaches behind her back, fingers blindly grasping at the clasp on her brassier, managing to get it undone as they broke apart to breathe. She sat back up and pulled the padded fabric aside, leaving her ample breasts bare, shadowed softly in the flickering candlelight.

Jeralt sat up to meet her, hand once more taking hold of her bare breast, rubbing his rough palm against a rosy nipple as his lips met the sensitive flesh of her neck. She moaned a little louder at his touch, teeth biting down on her finger to stifle the sound – It would do neither of them any good to be caught like this, not now. Her chest heaved with each breath, heart beating hard beneath his hand as his firm touches sent her mind spinning out of control. She gasped again as his lips traveled lower down her body, eventually latching on to the other breast and giving it a firm kiss. She buried her free hand in his short-cropped, sandy brown hair, urging him on a few short moments before she pulled him away, gasping for breath and oversensitive, needing a moment to recover.

She turned suddenly to the candle beside them and blew it out, covering them entirely in a shroud of darkness. Jeralt made a sound, but was cut silent as he felt her finger on his lips again. Only able to see the blurred outline of her form in the darkness, he watched and felt as Leonie kissed him, creating a trail from his jaw, down his neck, and to his chest. There, she gave him a similar treatment, her lips latching on to one small nipple atop his strong chest, teeth giving it the smallest bite, sending a jolt of surprise down his back and a quiet groan from his throat. She continued lower, kisses and licks tracing the valleys of his abs, tasting the sweat from their sparring earlier there. As she continued even lower, Jeralt reached out, grabbing a small handful of hair from her head.

“Leonie, you don't have to do anything more,” he whispered to the darkness, but she pulled his hand away from her hair without a sound, and with a soft rustling, the older man felt a light breeze over his now uncovered member. He let out a groan, gritting his teeth to silence it, as her warm hand wrapped around him, sliding up and down from base to tip. He shuddered as he felt her warm breath cascade over him, tensing as all at once, he felt engulfed by warmth and wet.

Leonie hummed softly as she took him into her mouth, the overpowering taste of salt and lust filling her mind as she slid her lips over his length, tongue caressing the underside of him as she bobbed her head slowly, unsure if she was doing well or not. As Jeralt tensed and groaned, his hands once more finding her hair, she had to assume she was doing something right. The moment didn't last long, however, before Jeralt pulled her up and off of him, chest heaving.

“Jeralt? Did... I hurt you?” She whispered, suddenly self-conscious.

Jeralt let out a weak laugh, shaking his head in the darkness. “Goddess, no. Where did you learn to do that?”

She smiled meekly, looking away, though the darkness that way was just as thick as the darkness when facing him. “Well... I didn't, really. Just kinda did it.”

Jeralt laughed again, a little louder this time, and sat up, taking her face in both hands. Opting not to say anything else, he pressed his lips to hers, the woman turning to jelly in his hands. They kissed for a moment longer before he pulled away, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear as he whispered to her. “Lay down. I want to show you something,” he said. She obeyed without question.

Her heart began to beat faster again as his strong hands hooked around her cotton undergarments and pulled them away, cool air kissing her sex and sending a shiver down her spine. He took one leg in his hand and lifted it to his chin, kissing the back of her knee, down her thigh, the hair of his rough goatee tickling against her hot skin. He continued his journey, licking and kissing the increasingly soft skin of her inner thigh, her breath starting to catch in her throat.

Setting her leg down against the bed, he moved up and kissed her lower belly, breathing hotly from his nose as he left a trail this time from her navel to the tuft of coarse hair between her legs. Taking his time, his strong hands parted her legs and settled under her rump, lifting her up ever so slightly from the base of the bed. Her chest heaved, breaths heavy, heart hammering a million beats a minute beneath her ribs. She clamped a hand over her mouth as his lips pressed against her sex, sparks shooting from her hips to her toes and back, all at once. He moved slowly, kissing her as if it was her mouth, his tongue parting her lips slowly and gently, caressing her burning skin with each languid lap. Her hips squirmed at his touch, but he held her down with one rough hand, taking his time.

As she started to grow used to the incredible feelings, his thumb rubbed against the crown of her sex, not quite touching it directly, pressing down on the silk-soft skin just over it, sending a new shock of pure pleasure up her spine. Replacing her hand with a pillow from behind her head, she bit down hard against the fabric, feeling the cover tear against her teeth as she whined into the plush pillow. After a few more kisses, touches, licks, and breaths, Leonie tensed, her legs growing taught on either side of his face, toes pointing as her whole body quivered, shuddering with release.

Drained, she went limp, pillow falling from her face as she moaned quietly, Jeralt's lips against her sex sending another oversensitive jolt across her body. She was vaguely aware of him as he crawled up her heaving form, lips pressing against her cheek, her own wetness on his lips.

“You okay?” he muttered, rough hand gently cupping her cheek. She nodded weakly, smiling and pressing her lips against his. She could taste herself on him, a knowledge that sent heat directly to her core again.

“You wanna take a break?” He asked after a time. She shook her head, kissing him again.

“No. I want you, Jeralt,” She said, voice strong. “I want you right now.”

He didn't need any more convincing. Kissing her again, he shifted his weight to his knees as she lifted her legs again, settling her knees over his hips. He rolled his hips forward, shaft pressing against her sex a few times, eliciting a groan of longing. With a guiding hand, he pressed himself against the base of her opening, and with a gentle push, slipped the head of his member into her aching body.

Leonie may have been a virgin, but she wasn't an innocent maiden. She had explored her own body a few times before, and had been confident that, once the time arrived, she would know what to expect from the real experience of sex. But, as Jeralt's thick member pressed its way inside of her, she came to realize she knew almost nothing of what this would feel like. She held her breath as he rolled his hips forward, pushing a little ways further inside her with each motion, every time going further than she knew was even possible. She bit hard on her hand as she finally exhaled, her voice high and strained, not with pain, but with more pleasure than she had even felt before. And as Jeralt finally, finally settled inside of her, his hips pressed snugly against hers and filling every possible space within her sex, she felt blissfully, perfectly, satisfyingly full. Jeralt, her mentor, her hero, her first and only love, was completely connected to her.

As he rolled his hips back, and that feeling of fullness went with it, she moaned, hips rolling up to chase that feeling again, and he met her with a thrust of his own, the flesh of his hips slapping against her rump with a plap. She groaned, a spark of pain as the rough contact caught her off guard, but the pleasure that followed utterly banished it. Following his lead, she did it again, and again, matching his movements with her own as she stifled her soft cries, hand crying out in pain.

Without warning, Jeralt moved her hand aside and replaced it with his own, still rolling his hips in a steady rhythm as his thumb slipped between her lips. She moaned as she let him in, whimpering as she sucked on his thick digit, looking up into his shadow-blurred face with wide, wanting eyes. He shifted his weight again, moving faster now, not pressing quite as deep but brushing against other places she hadn't felt before. A renewed moan slipped past his thumb, so he pulled it away, replacing it with his own lips, catching her moaned cries with his mouth.

He groaned against her, lips parted and tongues twining, before the feeling of blinding heat returned to her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whimpering into his ear as she rocked his hips against his. “Jeralt... Jeralt, oh fucking goddess, Jeralt,” she cried, gasping for breath as she held on to him. The feeling mounted, his movements not slowing but picking up, and as his hips slapped against hers again, stars blasted across her vision, his hand clamping hard over her mouth to stifle another powerful moan.

Fresh off her second orgasm, Leonie went slack again, but Jeralt wasn't finished yet. He grit his teeth, tense and unmoving as she gasped beneath him, taking a long moment to recognize what was wrong. “Please, Jeralt,” she muttered, kissing his ear and his jaw, “Don't stop yet.”

With a slow, testing roll of his hips, she gasped, still oversensitive, and he tries to pull free, but she locks her legs around his hips, feet crossed at the ankles. “I'm okay, Jeralt. I promise. Keep going.”

Sighing, Jeralt nods, taking it slow. She tensed and jerked as he pushed in again, but he did as she asked and continued his slow ministrations. After a time, she started to relax again, groaning as he took a breast in his hand and gave it a squeeze. She released her hold on his hips and he continued again, matching that same slow rhythm from before. His breath started to grow more haggard after a moment, his perfect rhythm faltering, so Leonie reached up towards his face again, pulling him down to her. His lips latched hers and they kissed, moaning into each others mouths as Jeralt thrust into her again, twice, a third time, before he shuddered, pulling himself free of her and spurting hot ropes of his seed onto her belly and chest.

Leonie felt the barest twinge of disappointment but understood why; The scandal would ruin the both of them if she turned up to training pregnant with Jeralt's child, the new brother or sister of her own Professor. Fingers gently caressing the mess on her own skin, she smiled, leaning against Jeralt's broad chest as he laid down beside her.

*~*~*

After getting cleaned up, and a long, quiet moment of cuddling, Leonie shifted in Jeralt's arms, turning to face him. She planted a soft kiss on his lips, and smiled at him, fingertips gently tracing the hard lines on his strong jaw.

“So,” she started, voice starting to feel raw from her earlier cries, “...When do you think we can train again?”

Jeralt chuckled, kissing her back. “How about tomorrow?”

The End.


End file.
